


Dust From A Distant Sun (the Hellburned remix)

by tielan



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Gen, Not comics compliant, Post-Series, Walk Into A Bar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-27
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-07-27 02:44:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7600405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tielan/pseuds/tielan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kate was never the kind to lie to herself. She picks the corner table because it means she can keep an eye on everything in the bar – and it’s definitely an <i>everything</i> kind of bar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dust From A Distant Sun (the Hellburned remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shobogan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shobogan/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Sunfaded](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1044832) by [shobogan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shobogan/pseuds/shobogan). 



Kate was never the kind to lie to herself. She picks the corner table because it means she can keep an eye on everything in the bar – and it’s definitely an _everything_ kind of bar.

The bartender has human drinks – she’s learned enough not to order the water, and not to order the blood. After that, it’s generally anyone’s guess. But the beer is acceptable, and not as terrible as some beers Kate drank back when she was on the force and had to go out drinking with her fellow cops.

“A light beer – or whatever passes for it here.” Then, while the barman is filling her order, she turns to look again at the occupants of the bar.

She’s not entirely sure who her contact is going to be; the local group of vampire slayers directed her to this bar and told her she’d be met.

So far, there are four twist-horned demons in the corner, chatting and laughing boisterously and paying no attention to anyone but themselves. Kate’s already named them ‘ _ the Frats _ ’ and  right now they’re harmless. There are two groups of humanoids. One set look mostly human, save for the small tentacles behind their ears, one set have what look like tattoos at first glance, only the tattoos are mobile across their skin. And then there are the individuals watching the television, on their cellphones, or – in the case of one woman – reading a large, leather-bound tome.

The barman sets a drink on the bar – it’s definitely not what she ordered, blue and cream, with an umbrella in it.

“Excuse me? What’s this?”

The barman gives her a look and jerks his head at the table with the woman. “It’s for her. Take it with you when you go over.”

The beer comes, Kate takes it and the cocktail over to the woman and slides into the seat opposite her in the booth. The vinyl is cracked and sags in disturbing ways – the people who’ve sat here didn’t always have human-sized or human-shaped butts. “I didn’t realize I was that obvious.”

“You weren’t,” says the woman, not looking up from her place in the book. “It’s because I told him who I was expecting.” She puts her finger on the page and flips back through a couple of pages, says, “Ah.” And taps her finger on the line again.

When she looks up at Kate, her expression is quiet and reflective. “I’m Dawn. Dawn Summers.”

“Kate Lockley.” Then, because she read and re-read those old files until the names and events are burned into her memory, she asks, “Summers?”

“My sister is the Slayer. I’m not.” The statement is simple enough, the undertones aren’t. “I help out, in this city and others – rather like a point of contact. Mostly, I meet new people, evaluate them, determine if they can help or if they’re more likely to hinder operations.”

“Operations? The Watchers aren’t a paramilitary organization, Ms. Summers.”

“Maybe not ten years ago.” Summers shrugs. “Times change, technology shifts, we adjust – or we get left behind.”

“And yet I note you’re reading a tome rather than a tablet.”

Summers smiles briefly. “There are some things that our organization have agreed are too dangerous to put on easily copyable media. That doesn’t stop people from trying, of course. Photographs can be taken and sent, transliterations produced. But there are still measures in place.”

The young woman shrugs, and again, there’s the brief smile. “Why did you call us, Ms. Lockley? Our last record of you is via Angel Investigations back in 2002 – that’s nearly fifteen years ago – and at the time you weren’t exactly covering yourself in glory, or even practicality.”

Stung by the observation, Kate’s about to retort sharply. She tells herself to stay calm, that burning bridges here won’t help her cause. “I was...concerned about the state of the supernatural in LA at the time – with good reason considering what came after. But I let it take over my life,” she concedes. “That wasn’t healthy.”

“So, if you’ve acknowledged that,” Summers says, “why are you back now?”

“Because something is happening again.”

Kate lets the statement sink into the little pool of quiet around the booth, watching Summers for a reaction and getting none. That, in itself, is a reaction.

“That’s a bold statement coming from a woman with no arcane training or specialty.”

“And that’s a bland statement coming from a woman who can access plenty of arcane information and knows exactly what I’m talking about.”

The corners of the wide mouth twitch as she lifts the cocktail to her mouth. “What do you think is happening, and what do you expect the Slayers and Watchers are doing about it?”

“I think that we’re cycling around to another end-of-the-world scenario,” Kate says as Summers drinks, pulling a tablet out of her bag. “And, knowing what I do about the Slayers and their associates, I sincerely doubt that you’re ignorant of this, or kicking back and putting your feet up. And I want to help. Need to help,” she corrects.

“And you’re not going to let your pursuit of answers take over your life this time?”

“I’ve worked out how to manage it.”

It’s been a long and difficult ten years, learning not to see the supernatural in everything, trying not to get caught up in things that were bigger than her, and for which she had no training. After LA got really weird, she applied for a transfer out, and ended up in Sacramento, where she worked hard and quietly, and saw a therapist on the side for all the things that she couldn’t get out of her head.

And then she started glimpsing things – patterns, things that couldn’t be explained – and panicked that she was starting the slide back into madness again.

It took her nearly two years to get her head around the idea the supernatural _was_ all around her, and that she didn’t have to either ignore it or pursue it, she just had to accept it as one more layer of complexity to her work.

“Are you working back with the LAPD, Ms. Lockley?”

“I took out a PI license,” she admits. The LAPD wouldn’t have her back – not after the way she went off the rails – and, the truth is, she doesn’t want to go back into the force either. It’s not what it was, and she’s not who she was. “So I have a little legality in law enforcement.”

Summers is nodding. “And you think the Watchers don’t already have something in place in law enforcement?”

“I think you can always do with a little more,” Kate says bluntly. “Unless you can’t, in which case you’re wasting both our time.”

The silence is long and considering, and although the other woman is at least a dozen years younger – if not more – Kate is put in mind of a supervisor regarding a rookie on their first day in the job. She’d bristle, but she had an idea that coming in – or coming out – to the Watchers was going to be a high-level effort.

After a moment, Summers nods. “It won’t be glamorous or pretty. And you’re not going to be spearheading the fight – that’s for the Slayers and the Champions. We’re mostly the support squad and the research corps.”

“That’ll do for me. I don’t want to be the hero. I just want to help.”

Summer’s mouth quirks. “That’s what they all say. The other thing to remember is that we’re not a forthcoming organization, even now. We don’t share and share alike the way you might expect the cops to do. You’ll have to get used to that.”

“I’ll grit my teeth – and occasionally push.” Kate doesn’t smile – it’s not really a smile. “If I think you’re holding back on something important, I’m going to get angry.”

“Just as long as you accept that what you think is important may not be of equal importance to us.”

“I can accept that. I’ll fight it, but I can accept it.”

It’s going to take some compromise, with Kate already knew when she decided to approach the Watchers. Angel Investigations was frustrating enough, and that was just Angel and his friends. The Slayers and the Watchers have a lot more power and knowledge available to them, and they’re rather less likely to release it.

She’ll just have to push whatever she can, wherever the opportunity presents.

No, she won’t get obsessed a second time, but neither is she going to stand on the sidelines the way she has for the better part of eight years.

“All right, then, we’ll run a background check on you – which you expected – and I’ll need to consult with my colleagues, but, I think it’s safe to say...” Summers taps her cocktail glass against Kate’s beer. “Welcome back to the Hellmouth, Ms. Lockley.”

 


End file.
